


A woman

by Streamsofstoriesandcolour



Series: Something, Something More [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 14:01:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17726579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Streamsofstoriesandcolour/pseuds/Streamsofstoriesandcolour
Summary: The wedding night of Reynard and Meve, and things came to realization as they thought about the Battle of Rivia





	A woman

Reynard stood by the bedside nervously, it seems forever since she proposed him on days before the battlefield and eventually the battle of Riva, which recorded by most, as the tiding force to Meve’s grit to fight against all odds. He even paced his breathing back and forth to calm the tension in his body. He was a soldier after all, and he needed to stay strong for Lyria’s glory. It was the first night they spent together since the nuptials. He was glad that the banquets are over, for they seem to drag forever and forever (well expect for Gascon who have a ball of a time, flirting with the guests and tell harrowing tales about Reynard’s stiffness during the conquest to redeem Lyria). And maybe even more, with the small talk which he is clearly uncomfortable. But he has to bear that side, since Meve will be circulating information to all the folk (Even King Dermavad is impressed by her choice of fiancee, but nevertheless approved that union as he mummer with Toussaint wine on his breath that their union will be a happy one, maybe even more than with King Reginald.)

However what he could hold on, until they enter the bedchambers that she will never carry that burden all alone.

“Reynard…” Meve simpered quietly as she slipped herself into her nightgown and watched her honey hair let loose from the usual braids. Somehow the silks cling to her shapely form like the rivers they passed by during their conquest to gain back the twin cities. “I am afraid…all this time I am always fighting alone… against my son, the black-clads, Caldwell, Gods…” There is a vulnerability in her voice that she thought about the past events of her life, she has never been afraid since her husband’s sudden passing as she held that heavy crown all alone. Reynard saw tears flow down her cheeks, just thinking about her son’s crusade despite his sins. “You are not alone your grace… you brought glory to an ailing kingdom” And quietly he kissed her cheeks, wiping the tears with his lips. She somehow heaved quietly as she trailed her lips to his. Her taste was gentle. It spurred to trail kisses along her neck, using his teeth to scrape across the sensitive rise of her throat. His ears perked up to her quiet pleas and the slow beats of her heart “please… Reynard…” His eyes widened with surprise on her sighs, it must be new to him to see her enjoy the pleasures of life “Sorry am I being too rash…”

Meve shook her head as she guided him to the bed, laying herself comfortably, her hands shivering as she slowly pulled down his breeches “No surprise that you are sweating. The soldiers must worry about your melancholia. I just want you to take me as I am, no longer a queen…but…” even before she could finish her sentence. He knew what to do next. That tremble in her voice made her so beautiful. And soon he found himself pulling down her nightdress to reveal such a beautiful form.

_By the gods._

Reynard found himself murmuring that sentence under his breath. He knew that she is beautiful when King Reginald took him to the courts to introduce to the young princess who shivered at the wandering faces of the court. Yes, she may be temporarily happy with her then Husband, but for her, unafraid to show her flaws proves more majestic than Dandelion’s ballads, no longer painted as the crusader of The North, but a woman which he promised to hold her until her dying breath.

That itself was the greatest reward ever.

Before long, his mouth trailed silently to her collarbones, which he kissed and sucked her breasts, which he watched patiently for her reactions. “No…keep going Reynard…” it must be a new sensation for Meve.

Maybe she was treated hastily for the security of the empire by King Reginald. He thought pensively, given their faces that they laid a mutual respect but unceasing. How he quietly observed her, rubbing her stomach silently as she watched over the new lands. A stranger in her new lands, the twin cities eagerly awaiting a new heir. How alone she must have felt, as she watched those lands with stoicalness when she heard the news that her husband passed. She never gave herself a chance to grieve at her husband’s funeral, knowing that many will entrap her in her vulnerability.

Not anymore in the bedchamber, which he watched her hardened expression softened when he slides his hands unto her curls and pressed it quietly. Reynard cautiously rubbing between her curls, watching her strong mask giving away to pleasure. And soon he quickens his pace in his hands, watching her hips buck into his hand. “Gods…Reynard…please…” which he slipped the tip of his finger inside her, causing her to gasp quietly. He heaved a sigh of relief that she is indeed pleasured by that act, watching her biting her bottom lip. He prepared her carefully and lovingly until she urged him quietly to take her.

_After all, she is a woman, not a warrior or a queen._

It was indeed a beautiful sight as she trailed her hands hungrily to his hips, guiding her to that crux. Quietly she dropped her hips down to his arousal. She quietly rubbed against him, watching him heave quietly with hers. For it was a new age of Lyria, the glorious and shining kingdom that they hold together now and forever. He watched her with admiration at a distance, thinking she was a statue but now he found the human underneath and he thanks the gods that he could be with her at her side.

And he showed it by flipping her to the bed. Her eyes widened with surprise over his boldness and she was rewarded by a firm thrust. “Reynard gods how can you do this…"Tears of joy trickled down her face as he dug himself deeper and deeper to her core, and his mouth kissing and nipping her perfect form and scars. His trembling hands caressing her swollen nipples. Subconsciously she enveloped her thighs around his back, meeting at every movement. She is soon escalating to her peak as she chanted his name at his ear “Reynard. Reynard.”

He held her close, holding on to that adoration in that race until she expired with a cry.

And this is the last thing he heard before he tumbled with her.

When they woke up, He found himself catching his breath. Meve tangled her fingers to his slick hair. She cracked a soft smile, the same one that radiated through Lyria’s victory against a certain Aep Dahy, whom by now, rotting to the hells. His parched voice echoed the room. “I just hope that Gascon do not pop by our room your…” as he looked at Meve happily, and even before he could call her “Your Grace.” Meve silenced him with a kiss. “Reynard…I am your wife now, not your queen…” Reynard slowly turns red from embarrassment from him blurting out such a title unfitting to the future. Meve raised an eyebrow cheekily “Call me your grace again and I will….”

“I apologize…”

Reynard swallowed quietly on her stern words, He watched Meve heaved silently against those pillows, face satisfied pink. and somehow from his stomach, he replied a word which he swore he will never ever say. “Meve. My love.” Never beamed quietly, as she curled against him gently. “You are forgiven, Reynard. Never leave me…”

“I promise Meve.” as he took the last of his energy to trail his lips to her hands. “I will never leave you.”

And it was the day he knew that he even loved her more.


End file.
